Chapter Seven.

"I looked to my right," said MacTavish, "and saw a slim little girl about nine or ten years old standing next to the bench. She had short dark hair and very dark eyes. She was what I imagined Bridget would have looked like at that age, but she was wearing a dancer's costume. She had on a pale yellow leotard and filmy skirt, and matching dancing slippers. She must have been taking a shortcut home from her dancing lessons."

'Do you have any fish and chips?' she asked again.

I just looked at her.

'I smell fish!' she declared. 'Do you have any fish and chips?'

'I'm sorry,' I said, 'but I do not.'

'I'm sorry too,' she said. She pointed beyond the edge of the cemetery to the Leisure Center on Whiterock Road. 'There's a van over there that sells very good fish and chips. People buy them and come over here to sit down and eat. Sometimes I come over and I do a cartwheel for them, and they give me some.'

'There's also a place down that road that sells pizza. Sometimes people come here and eat their pizza,' she continued. 'If I do a cartwheel for them, I always get a slice.'

'And there's a nice lady who comes here all the time to eat her pizza. She sometimes brings an extra pizza - a small one, but all just for me. When she does that, I do a bunch of cartwheels and even a few handsprings for her.'

She gave me a puzzled look.

'If you're not here to eat, why are you here?' she asked. 'The only other people who come here but don't eat are couples who come here because they want to be alone with each other. But they usually don't start showing up until later in the evening.'

She plopped down on the opposite side of my bench.

'And then there was the time that a really big bunch of people came here,' she continued. 'They brought a big black statue that they called a movie camera. Once in a while everyone stop talking, and then a few of them would parade around in front of the statue and start talking again. For a while, they were the only ones who did any talking then, but they stopped when one of the other people got angry and shouted that he was going to cut them up. Then everyone would begin talking and moving around again. Sometimes two of the people stood in front of the statute behaved like a pair that came here because wanted to be alone, but they were only pretending.

'And then some of the other people got dressed up funny and pretended to be monsters and demons. But they weren't really scary at all. They were just silly. None of them behaved like real demons and monsters. Everybody was doing everything allll wrong! Except for knowing that it was really important to put a stake through the monster's heart.'

'Are you hungry?' she asked. 'If you are, there is a van by the Leisure Center which sells very good fish and chips. If you go over there and bring some back for me, I will do a cartwheel for you.'

'I think not,' I answered. 'I don't feel hungry at all.'

'Are you sure?' she said. 'Their fish and chips are very, very tasty. And if you bring me some, I will do a cartwheel and then walk around on my hands.'

I shook my head.

Whiterock Road was not that far away, I said to myself. If the girl wanted fish and chips so much, why didn't she just go over there and get them herself? I started to get angry and was about to say something curt, to tell her to go away and stop bothering me. Then I noticed she had no pocket book, and realized she was probably did not have any money on her.

I reminded myself that, at this girl's age, Bridget was a penniless immigrant who spent all her time working as a scullery maid in a foreign land. She never had the opportunity to relax and just sit on a park bench, eating fish and chips, while watching the sun go down. I had money, the little girl was hungry,and I would be dead tomorrow. Why not buy her some food? I was about to tell her I would get her some fish and chips, when she suddenly changed the topic.

'Well, if you are not hungry and you did not come here to be alone with somebody, why did you come here?

'I came to visit someone,' I replied, gesturing towards the short row of grave markers. 'To wish her well and say goodbye.'

'Now you're the one being silly,' she said. 'Nobody ever comes here to visit like that - not at this part of the cemetery.'

I realized that she was probably correct. Everyone in the paupers' graves and everyone who might have known them had died a long time ago.

'Nobody's been here for a visit like that,' she said, 'in a very long time…' She shut her eyes and wrinkled her brow in thought. She opened her eyes and added, '…not for more than half a century.'

'So, who did you come to visit?' she asked. 'And what made you come here now?'

'That is a long story,' I said, 'and not a very pleasant one.'

'That's alright,' she told me. 'I like stories…especially scary ones.'

I did not feel like discussing Bridget and my family with a complete stranger, and I was again starting to feel a little annoyed.

'It will be dark in a little while, and your family will be getting worried about you,' I announced. 'I also have to leave now,' I said, as I started to rise from the bench.

'Wait.' she said. 'Before you go, would you like me to do a cartwheel for you?'

I wanted to be rid of her, so I nodded for her to proceed. She smiled slyly.

She then began a short run across the grass. She ended the run with a small skip, twisted her body slightly and brought down both hands sideways to swing her legs over her body. After her feet struck the ground she stood up straight and looked over at me, to make sure she had my complete attention. She then bent her knees slightly and sprang up into a full back flip. She kept both her arms extended straight out from the sides of her body, like the wings of an airplane. When she landed, her feet touched the ground as lightly as a falling feather.

I clapped as she came running back to me.

'I gave you a cartwheel, and also a backflip,' she announced. 'Now you have to tell me your story – or else bring me some fish and chips.' She sat back down on the bench, and again smiled at me.

I was impressed by her gymnastic skill, and no longer felt annoyed with her. I also realized that it might not be a bad thing for me to talk to somebody, even - or especially - somebody who was a complete stranger, about what had happened to Bridget.

I gave the young girl a bowdlerized version of the long-ago events. She did not interrupt me once. When I finished my account of the life and death of poor Bridget O'Reilly, my eyes felt wet and I was afraid that I might start crying again.

"You were right," she said slowly. 'That was not a pleasant story. It was not a scary story, just a very sad one.'

'But it shouldn't make you feel bad, at least not about yourself,' she continued. 'It was not your fault. It all happened a long time ago, and you had nothing to do with what happened to Bridget. I don't think that you would ever do anything like that to anyone. You seem like a very nice human, Angus. In fact, I think that you probably made Bridget happy by taking the trouble to come here and visit her.'

'Thank you,' I said, giving her a sad smile. 'It's very nice of you say that… What is your name, little girl?

"I am not a girl, you silly' she replied. 'I am wildf…,' she hesitated, and then continued, 'I mean my name is… Wildflower.' She thought for a second, and announced, 'In fact, my full name is… Primrose Wildflower.'

'But you can call me Rose," she added.

I stood up, bowed to her and said in a very formal voice, 'Well, it is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Primrose Wildflower.'

Rose got up from the bench and made her own little bow.

'Indeed, the pleasure is all mine, Mister Angus MacTavish,' she replied in an equally formal voice. She looked so enchanting that I completely overlooked the fact that I had never told her my family's name.

Then I noticed she remained in her bowed over position, and was staring intently at the ground. She got down on both knees, and began running her hands over a patch of grass in front of the bench. She raised her head and stared up at me.

'I sense tears,' she said. 'You cried for Bridget."

She stood up and continued to stare at me.

'For as long as I've been here, nobody has ever come to this part of our cemetery and given it the gift of a tear or two. That must have made Bridget happy. Now I have to do something for you, something more than a cartwheel.'

Rose closed her eyes and tilted her head sideways, in the direction of the markers. After a minute or two, she reopened her eyes and looked at me with a big smile.

'You made Bridget very happy, Angus,' she said. She says to tell you not to worry about her anymore. She was very unhappy when she first arrived, until sometime later when another person tried to visit her. He was very old, and when he got out of his car, a nurse helped him into a wheelchair. She pushed him around different paths in this section of the cemetery, like they were looking for something. They didn't get as far as this row, because the man told the nurse that she was probably getting tired. They got back in the car and left.'

'Bridget said that the man was her son, and had been trying to find her grave. She said that his treatment of the nurse showed that he inherited more from Bridget's side of the family than from his father's side. She was sorry that he didn't find her grave, but she was no longer so unhappy as she used to be.

'Bridget told me to give you a message. She said that her son, and his son, and everyone down to you inherited most of what you are from her side of the family. She said to tell you that you are not a monster, and that there is not a drop of monster blood in your veins. You just have the ability to recognize monsters – to see things as they really are.'

'Bridget said that your tears made her and everyone around her feel good. In fact, she says that she was now treated something like a star, like a famous stage actress.'

Rose paused a moment, and frowned. 'I don't know if that is really a good thing, Angus. When all the camera people were here, one of them was a very pretty lady that everyone called the star. She even had her own trailer, parked by the Leisure Center. When she was with the group, everyone smiled at her and said nice things to her. But when she went into her trailer, the people stopped smiling and some of them said very bad things about her.'

Rose shrugged her shoulders and said, 'Oh well, Bridget might learn a thing or two.'

'But for now,' Rose continued, 'she wants you to know that you made her very happy, and that she wants for you to feel good too. She said you deserve it.'

Rose stretched out her hand to give mine a sympathetic pat. The moment our fingers touched, however, she gave a startled cry and quickly pulled back her hand. She took a step backwards, and gave me a good long look, with her eyes running up and down my body several times. When her finally eyes returned to my face, I answered her wordless glare with a very puzzled look.

She stared at me another moment, and then abruptly turned around. She marched back to the grave marker and stamped her foot.

'Bridget O'Reilly,' she said sternly, 'and all you others, why did you lie to me?'

She again leaned her head sideways, and I saw her frown gradually disappear. Although I would not describe her new look as happy, at least it was no longer angry. She got down on her hands and knees, and began feeling all around the patch of grass where I had first stood and cried. She lifted her hands to her nose and smelled them, then looked over at me.

She got up and came back to me. She grabbed both my hands, looked into my eyes, and deeply inhaled.

'I knew it,' she declared. 'I thought I smelled fish, and I was right!'

Rose squeezed my hands even tighter, and continued to peer into my eyes.

'You're definitely human,' she declared as she let go of me, 'but Bridget lied about you not having a drop of monster blood in you. And, it's not just a drop, it's definitely a whole lot more! She looked back at the grave site.

'And you didn't shed just one or two tears, she continued. 'You gave us a whole lot more.' Rose closed her eyes, like she was concentrating very hard. She then opened her eyes and began to talk, much more slowly.

'Technically speaking, Bridget did not actually lie to me. She lied to you. She only tricked me. She tricked me, me into carrying her lie over to your ears.' The look on her face was a mix of amazement and perplexion. 'What a clever little girl. She'll make a very good star.'

'But what should I do?, Rose asked, more to herself than to me. She was silent for a few minutes.

'Bridget did what she did with good intentions,' she proclaimed. 'While you, you didn't do anything bad.' Rose glanced again at the grave site. 'In fact, you gave us one of the biggest gifts I have ever seen. You gave it freely, with no selfish motive.'

Rose grabbed my right hand, pulled me over to the grave site, and again stamped her foot on the ground.

'Bridget, all of you, pay attention," she said. 'Angus gave us a very big gift, and now he's got to get back something equally big – not just a lie!

Rose paused a moment, and announced, "It doesn't matter what anyone else told you. I'm the one in charge now. Get to it!

I thought it was my imagination, but the ground seemed to shake a little. Then, first my feet, my legs, and finally my entire body felt a little tingle.

'Thank you,' said Rose. Then she turned and looked straight into my eyes.

'Very good,' she said in a satisfied manner, 'now you can do more than simply recognize monsters. You can now also get inside their heads and read their minds.' She giggled. 'And most of them - but not all - won't even know it is happening!'

'Not only that,' she added, 'you will be able to fight them, and..."

Behind me, the sun was just setting below the horizon. The last of its rays shined into Rose's dark eyes, and transformed them to flaming red.

'…You will be able to destroy them.' Then she giggled again.

'You are going to have some interesting experiences, Angus MacTavish,' she went on. 'It is sooo boring here. Maybe I can get my people to let me accompany you, sometime in the future. What do you think?' She smiled sweetly at me.

By that time, I was thinking that I was not talking to just a little girl with big gymnastic skills and an even bigger imagination. I tried to recall how far away was the Belfast Mental Hospital.

"Look, Rose,' I told her. 'It is now dark, and this is not a safe place for you to be. Why don't I walk you over to your home, or to a policeman?

'That won't be necessary,' she said, as she pointed behind me. 'My people are already here.'

"I turned around. I was uncertain whether I would see a pair of anxious parents, or a pair of grim orderlies carrying a small straight jacket. Instead, I saw no one."

"I turned back around, but now Rose had disappeared!"

"I looked to the left and to the right. I saw no one. 'Rose,' I called out as I started moving among grave markers, 'where are you? It's not safe here.'"

"After a few minutes of searching and calling out her name, I heard her voice. It sounded very faint, as if from far away."

'Goodbye Angus' she called. 'It was very nice meeting you.'

"Her voice was rapidly fading, and I could barely make out her final sentences: 'Always remember, you are not a monster. You are a monster fighter.'"

"I started to run in the direction of the fading voice. Then I must have tripped over something. I fell and hit my head on one of the grave markers. The next thing I knew, the sun was shining in my eyes. It was Sunday morning, I a big bump on the side of my head and a bad headache. I was uncertain whether my memories of Rose were simply a dream, or the result of a concussion."

"I got up, brushed myself off, and started to head back towards the cemetery entrance. I stopped for a moment, and returned to say one last goodbye to Bridget."

"When I got to her paupers' grave, I discovered it was now surrounded by a large ring of pale yellow primroses. I plucked one and put it on the lapel of my jacket"

"I felt much better. I began whistling as I walked back to the cemetery entrance. I hailed a cab at the corner of Falls Road and Donegall Road, and returned to my hotel."